


A little massage never hurt no one

by Callmepapi



Series: ~Tumblr Works~ [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Degradation, Dirty Talk, M/M, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, chamomile oil, jaskier’s lovely nipples, make that a tag, please god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmepapi/pseuds/Callmepapi
Summary: Geralt looked at him with a disapproving face, “not much to massage in this position,” he said.“On the contrary, I think there’s plenty to massage,”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: ~Tumblr Works~ [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812889
Kudos: 74





	A little massage never hurt no one

**Author's Note:**

> Here you go, a lovely little prompt from tumblr.
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated XD

“ _ I  _ know what would make you feel better,” Jaskier smirked. Geralt looked up at him from his seat on the bed. They were staying at an inn, nothing fancy, just that Jaskier had insisted on it after spending two weeks straight on the road. The bard was practically aching for some fresh sheets.

Jaskier moved towards him, kneeling down on the bed and crawling until he was sat upright in front of him, “take your trousers off,” he said with an excited smile. When Geralt made no move to do so the bard spoke again, “c’mon… you know the last time I had an idea you loved it, you know? The chamomile…” Jaskier smiled at him, head tilted and one eyebrow raised in a persuading look. Geralt huffed and removed his leather breaches.

“Where do you want me?” Geralt asked, completely unaware of the chill that went up jaskiers spine, or the blood that rushed downwards.

“Just… just in the centre there, I have to grab something real quick.” Jaskier jumped off the bed and near sprinted to his pack, picking up a small vial gripped in sweaty hands as he rushed back to Geralt, hopping onto the bed and arranging Geralt's bare legs so that he sat in between them.

Geralt looked at him with a disapproving face, “not much to massage in this position,” he said.

“On the contrary, I think there’s  _ plenty _ to massage,” Geralt rolled his eyes at jaskier’s remark and the bard huffed. He popped open the cork and coated his hands in a generous layer of chamomile oil before telling Geralt to take off his shirt. The witcher did so without complaint and Jaskier shivered at the compliance.

He began running his hands along Geralt's ribs, softly massaging the oil into the Witcher’s skin. He moved his hands up circling his pecs and Jaskier was suddenly very thankful that Geralt had shut his eyes as the obvious tent in his trousers was not something easily hidden.

He brushed his thumb over Geralt’s nipple and the Witcher sighed contentedly. Jaskier watched Geralt’s face for any changes as his hands trailed lower, then lower, before dipping his thumbs in the crease between his thighs and the Witcher’s cock, which, as Jaskier glanced, seemed to be slightly hard at his close touch.

His fingers traveled lower still, Geralt’s position, half reclined on the bed, meant that Jaskier would have easy access to the Witcher’s hole, thankfully. His hand traveled south and, with an oiled finger, he carefully massaged the rim of Geralt’s tight asshole.

Geralt didn’t seem to mind, either he enjoyed it or he believed it was all part of jaskier’s massage. Either way, Jaskier was getting what he wanted - the witcher, relaxed and content as Jaskier worked him open with his fingers.

Geralt growled as Jaskier brushed his fingers over a sensitive spot and the bard couldn’t help but gasp as his cock twitched in his breeches. He rocked his hips against the bed, just slightly, just to relieve the pressure.

Geralt spread his legs open wider, allowing the bard more access to him as Jaskier worked in a second finger. Jaskier watched as Geralt’s eyebrows furrowed, the stretch, while not painful, causing a pleasant burn. Jaskier moved his fingers, slowly, in and out at a gentle pace. He thought this would be best for Geralt, he had no idea if the man had done anything of this sort before.

But then jaskier’s wrist was gripped tightly, and a growled, “ _ more _ ,” was said into the air of the room. Jaskier looked up into Geralt’s glowing, golden eyes as Jaskier’s own face blushed red at the thrill of being caught, though it was inevitable.

Jaskier worked in a third finger as quickly as possible, relishing in the deep groans that Geralt gave. The witcher brought his free hand away from where it was tightly grinning the bedsheets, using it to rip open jaskier’s chemise, revealing to him the bard’s buff chest and the pert, pink nipples that Geralt happily prodded as Jaskier worked towards getting a fourth finger inside him.

The bard let out a hot breath as Geralt moved his thumb over his nipple, the sensation causing his dick to jerk in his breeches. But this wasn’t for him, this was for Geralt. He was supposed to make Geralt feel better.

Jaskier focused his fingers on a particularly sensitive spot inside Geralt, moving inside the witcher until Geralt had his eyes clenched shut and his head thrown back against the wall; one hand tightly gripping the sheets while the other held up a stuttering rhythm of massaging the bard’s chest.

When Jaskier saw Geralt’s cock twitching and Geralt’s expression tightening, he grabbed a hold of his dick and tightly wrapped his hands around the base, “not yet, witcher. You can last longer than this.” He tightened his grip until he was sure it was hurting Geralt, but not too much, he wasn’t cruel.”

“You’re excited, never had this much attention before, have you? Used to… used to a quick fuck at a brothel, huh,” he grinned, eyes glossy and wild, “ cause no one wants to stick around with a monster like you, terrified that… they-they’ll be killed, scared of you snapping your sharp fangs- a wolf’s fangs - around their necks.” Geralt’s breath stuttered in his chest and Jaskier felt the way his cock throbbed in his hand.

“P- please, Jaskier,” he mewled, his face red and hot.

“You’re lucky you have me, lucky that I can take care of you. No one else will, huh? They refuse to sully themselves with a beast like you.” Geralt whimpered and Jaskier panted as the hand that had been previously playing with the bard’s chest moved downwards until it was roughly palming Jaskier's hard cock through his breeches.

“F- fuck, Geralt! Fuck, you- you beast!” He chuckled between pants for breath, “you’re such a little whore. Look at you so desperate for release that you’re bribing me with your own sullied hands, you little slut.” Geralt growled, feeling jaskier’s cock throb under his palm. He rubbed faster, hoping that if Jaskier came then so could he.

“Fuck! Fuck, don’t stop!” Jaskier’s voice was high pitched and near whiny, he knew the bard was close as his voice only ever got that high when he was almost done, at least that’s what Geralt heard through the walls at night, when the bard was bedding a random partner.

Jaskier’s hand, the one wrapped around Geralt’s cock, began to move. Slowly and just as tightly gripped as before, he moved his fist up and down. Geralt had to breathe deep and slow, focusing on jaskier’s owl pleasure less he spilled; he knew that wouldn’t make for a happy bard.

“Fuck, you beast, you’re doing this like you were born for it. What are you? Part incubus? You sure as hell could fool me, as monstrous as you look, ah! You- you fucking- nngh!” Jaskier spilled through his breeches, a dark, wet patch slowly growing wider as the bard’s cock throbbed and jerked breath Geralt’s palm as the Witcher continued rubbing him through it until he was a whining mess that was still trying to degrade the witcher, when the only one who truly looked like a debauched mess was the bard; red faced, sweating, panting, come dripping from his pants and his shirt - ripped open to show his chest and his soft, pink nipples.

Jaskier pulled Geralt’s wrist away from him and began redoubling his efforts from before, specifically rubbing his four fingers against Geralt’s prostate and giving him the best handjob of his life.

“Fuck, Jaskier. Fuck!” Jaskier felt Geralt clench around his fingers, nearly crushing them as he continued to forcefully rub against him, the other hand milking his cock of it's come, landing in a small puddle on the Witcher’s belly

“S-stop, too much.” But Jaskier wasn’t done until Geralt was sweaty, red-faced and panting and gasping for breath. And he was practically there. Moving his finger’s against Geralt’s prostate, the witcher was now whining where he was sat on the bed, free hands gripping the sheets beneath him. Jaskier had successfully miked the Witcher’s cock of it's come, nothing more coming out. He pulled his hands out of him, pleased to hear the small whimper that Geralt made as he moved away, rolling to lie next to him, utterly exhausted.

“Feel better?” He asked, his eyes shut and a smug grin on his face. Geralt was still panting for breath beside him.

“Fuck.”


End file.
